


Burn the Whole City Down

by Mitsuhachi



Series: Jager OC Hell [3]
Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Blasphemy, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Frigg - Freeform, Frigg is kind of a submissive little shit, Gen, Jägermonsters - Freeform, do not fall in love with your heterodyne, it is a terrible idea, no frigg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:12:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6044479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitsuhachi/pseuds/Mitsuhachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Frigg ends up with the jagerkin. </p><p>Less a coherent storyline and more a collection of short scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Frigg got to mechanicsburg

Enosh stood in the big field on the outskirts of the village and watched his house burn. 

There wasn't anyone in it. His mother and baby sister had died in the plague this spring; his father had been leading shiva services for Dafid's family on the other side of town. There had only just been enough adults left in the village to make minyan; only ten months' refusal to do his bar mitzveh study kept him from being dragged in himself. 

He didn't know whether any of them were still alive now. 

Their neighbors in Gemund and Winterburg had traded with them willingly enough, even if they'd never been what you would call friendly. As far as Enosh knew no one had even talked to them since the passes had frozen in November. But this morning they'd poured into the valley just after dawn with actual swords and Albian longbows and balls of pitch. Enosh had run outside still in his nightshirt to see Herr Freidrick who sold them wax for the sabbath candles slitting Rebekah Isaacson's throat. The toddler had dropped to the ground screaming around a high wet bubbling wheeze and Enosh had grabbed the iron candle-holder from the doorway and bashed the bastard's head in before he could turn.

There'd been three others just past the corner of the house where Enosh hadn't seen them. One had tried to catch the candlestick away from him; Enosh had leaned back weirdly to break his arm with it instead. This had landed him flat on his ass, just barely missing the second man's punch as he fell, but he'd turned it into a roll and bashed the man's shin with a sickening crack that left blood and shards of bone on the grass. He hadn't been able to dodge the pitchfork the third man tried to spear him with though, took it right through the meat of his thigh and screamed. He'd curled in on himself over his legs, head down, and the man had said something gloating in german over Enosh's head that he hadn't been able to parse over the blood pounding in his ears. 

They hadn't expected him to stand back up, his own weight making little spurts of blood squeeze out of the punctures on his thigh as he swung the candlestick up under pitchfork-man's chin and snapped his neck. His leg gave out after that, dropping him back to the grass and in range of spiky-leg, and Enosh let the momentum of his fall build force to smash the man's temple. Broken-arm threw something awkwardly into the house behind Enosh and ran. Enosh could barely get himself turned around to see what it was, there was no way he could chase the last man, but something in his brain was screaming at him to get up, GET UP, HUNT EVERY LAST ONE OF THESE COWARDLY FUCKS TO THE GROUND.

The heat on his face as his home caught fire hadn't quieted the screaming, but the pain in his leg as he dragged himself away from it had at least been a distraction.

He half-crawled and half pulled himself along on his belly the hundred or so meters to the green. He pushed himself up to sitting on the grass hillock by sheer stubbornness, watching the plumes of smoke grow as one by one the village's empty houses caught fire. His hands were shaking badly and cold-numb to boot, but he managed after some tries to get a long enough strip torn off his nightshirt to crudely bandage his leg. The jagged tears in the fabric from the pitchfork helped. Elezar's hair caught fire. Somewhere a woman Enosh didn't recognize screamed. 

"Tikkun Olam," his father had told him while they sat shiva for their own dead. "This world is broken, and we have to fix it, as best we can." Enosh looked down at the broken fence around Nathan's pigpen, the chickens wandering loose outside Benjamin's overturned coop, the doors hanging off the little synagogue with the smoke pouring out past them and the broken windows on what buildings weren't on fire already... What kind of G-d let this happen to His people and just told them to start picking up the pieces? Was that what passed for taking responsibility? That rage was pulsing in his head again; he wanted to just burn everything down, kick over the embers and trash whatever was left, leave no survivors. He wanted to hunt the whole goddamned world, he--

"Hoy, keed," the voice said from far too close behind where Enosh was sitting. He realized his face was wet and tried to dry it on his shoulder as he turned, hand tightening around the candlestick he still hadn't been able to make himself let go. "Vat de hell heppened here? Dint dis used to be dot place dot hed der honey und spatzle schtuffs?"

Enosh blinked. The men standing over him were dressed as soldiers from a dozen different armies, but bore alike the sharp teeth and green fur of the Jagermonsters. Enosh had sort of thought they were made up. "Uh, kugel?"

"Yah, dots de vun, mit der raisins und schtuff. Hy vanted to peek sum op on hour vay home, dot schuff vas dem gut. Dat voman, hmmm...Sara sumting hused to mek eet." The speaker leaned on an enormous war axe half again as tall as he was, apparently quite comfortable, while his companions rolled their eyes at him longsufferingly. "She vas preetty gud her own self, hif hyu know vhat  
hy em sayink," he leered.

Enosh let his face go cold. "Sarai Androvitz was my grandmother," he said, evenly. He glanced down at the ruin of his village. "I could make it for you now though, if you take me with you." 

The jagermonster lifted one eyebrow like he was thinking of maybe eating mouthy kids for dinner instead. "Hyu dun even know vhere ve iz goink--"

"I don't care either," Enosh said, pushing himself up even if he had to keep most of his weight on the candlestick to do it. "Anywhere but here."

He locked eyes with the jagermonster who'd been talking to him, ignored the others starting to frown at him. "Hy dun tink hyu know vhat hyu iz gettink into der, keed," one of them leered. "Vhat if ve chust gut hyu here und now und let Alexi mek heez own dem noodle schtuff, huh?"

Enosh didn't look away from their leader's eyes, just kept his back straight and tried to ignore the screaming pain in his thigh and the new warmth he really hoped wasn't more bleeding. "Then I'd say I guess you'd better get on it, Herr Monster," he said evenly, daring the man to try it.

His middle actually was totally undefended, he needed the stick to stay standing and if he tried to twist out of the way he'd definitely fall, but maybe if he--

The leader laughed. "Hokay, hokay, hy like hyu keed. Schtop de posturink before hyu pess hout, ve gots ein vagon bek et der cemp." Enosh felt himself sag with relief, and tried not to show it too obviously. "Hyu gon heff to tell us vhat de dumboozle ektually heppened here et sum point though. Come on."

Enosh made it four whole steps before his leg crumpled under him and everything went dark. 

******

The first thing Enosh was aware of was the blinding pain in his leg growing and ebbing as he rattled roughly side to side. He reached out to touch it without thinking, flailed wildly when adult-sized hands closed on his shoulders to hold him down. "I'll kill y'too," he slurred, and tried to open his eyes.

The old man pinning him made a face like he was trying not to smile. "Alright, son, peace. Hy'm not here to fight hyu, and hyu're in no fit state anyhow." Enosh blinked, but no, the man was a little blurry still but definitely human, right? 

"Where'm I?" The old man let go of his shoulders. That was good, better, he could move if he had to. Damn his leg really hurt. Enosh really wished his mom were here. 

"Hyu're safe, headed east with the jagercorps." The old man hesitated. "What hyu did was friggin brave, even if it was dumb as hell. What's hyur name, son?"

Enosh's eyes were closed again, what was with that? Wait, no, the man asked him a question. His accent really was hard to understand, even without using words Enosh didn't know. "Frigg?" he mumbled, vaguely confused. The man was laughing again. What was the question?

"Hy'll ask hyu again when hyu're all there. Listen, hy'm gonna sew hyu up now. This was a decent wrap up but its not enough on its own, yeah? So don't move."

Enosh nodded. Yeah, he really felt terrible, not moving sounded good. He suddenly remembered his mom petting the hair back off his forehead one time when he'd got a fever as a kid, telling him "lie still, bubbeleh, shh--"

The needle pierced his skin without warning, Enosh tried to lever himself up to punch whoever was touching him, and the sudden pain followed him down again into the dark.

******

The next time Enosh woke up things felt a little clearer. His leg still hurt fiercely but it wasn't the rolling throb it had been, and the rest of him felt slightly less like he'd been trampled by a herd of sheep. He got his eyes open and semi-focused. Small victories!

Hey, that old guy was there again. Enosh remembered him. Sorta? Also some kid barely older than he was apparently. "Welcome back," the old man said gruffly. "This'll be young Frigg, then," he said, waving a hand at Enosh. "He can tell hyu vhat happened to the village back there. Also hy understand some of hyur boys is waiting for him to make them some sweet pasta dish, hy don't know what thats about." He turned back to look at Enosh. "And this is--"

"Sat," the boy interrupted, hopping off the wooden box he'd been using as a seat. "Heard you gave the jagers quite a turn, not many kids will try to boss them around. Weren't you scared?" Sat didn't seem scared, Enosh noticed, so much as just a little confused and maybe not happy about it. He had the poshest accent Enosh had ever heard. 

"Worst they could do was kill me," he said, pushing himself up to sitting. 

Sat smiled. "They could do a lot worse than that," he said, "but I take your point." He gave Enosh a long, considering look. "Whats your plan now, then? We'll be in Mechanicsburg territory in a week or so, if you want to go somewhere else you'd better let us know to kick you off soon."

Enosh blinked. He had no idea what Sat was talking about or why he ought to avoid that territory. "I don't really...have any plan I guess. I just wanted out. Everything and everyone back there should just burn," he snarled, surprising himself.

Sat didn't look surprised. "You'd better come with me then," he said with a long slow smile spreading over his face. "I know somewhere they can always use boys with that kind of attitude."


	2. How Frigg Fell in Loyalty

Frigg stood in formation on the hill outside whistleburg and watched the village burn. Sarge had them waiting; some officer or other wanted orders on how to proceed since the planned raid was pretty clearly not going as expected. Frigg breathed in smoke and listened to screams from the village below and again did nothing. Beside him the pretty jerk from his squad began cursing under his breath in greek.

Hoofbeats rang out over the low murmuring of the men. The figure riding up to them was tall and imposing, silhouetted against the reddening sky save for the glint of sharp eyes looking over the scene. A far cry from the gangly teenager who'd dragged Frigg up to the recruiting office. Even if he wasn't looking, Frigg tried to stand a little straighter. 

"What," asked a voice low with leashed menace, "happened here?"

"Somevun elze got here first," a jagermonster said, shrugging at him. "Hy dun know who'd be zo schtupid, but hy ken schmell vhich vay dey vent."

Master Saturnus looked over the valley for a long moment without speaking, so calm as to be almost mild.

Then he turned to the troops and the bound fury in his face took Frigg's breath away. "This village is in Heterodyne territory. It is mine. Its land is mine, its goods are mine, its people are _mine,"_ he snarled, voice rising with every word.

 _And the LORD has chosen you to be a people for His own possession out of all the peoples who are on the face of the earth,_ Frigg remembered from his childhood, knew how little that could matter in the end. Below them in the valley the village burned. 

"I WILL NOT HAVE some petty tyrant touching what's mine! I may burn this place to the ground but NO ONE ELSE WILL LAY A HAND ON IT, or else that _hand_ is mine!" Saturnus' voice roared out over the troops, clipped syllables sharp enough to cut and ringing in all their ears. Frigg found himself almost trembling, shocked at the sheer possessiveness, waiting whipcord tense to hear what Saturnus would say.

Saturnus sat back in the saddle and dropped his voice. It didnt matter; not a single body moved in the crowd, every mind bent on his command. "We are going to hunt every last one of these pathetic wretches down and I am going to personally take my due out of their miserable hides." It was almost a whisper by the end, a breathless stillness that kept them all pinned, rapt, waiting for his word to move. Frigg felt something that had been flapping free in his heart orient like iron filings on a magnet on those dark eyes.

And then the jagermonstern took up their howl, "Ve HUNT!" in a wall of sound that knocked them into movement, sarge harrying them into following the racing horde. Frigg ran until the slam of his heart in his ears made sense, gasping for breath in a glorious madness, and thought _if you will indeed obey My voice and keep My covenant, then you shall be My own possession among all the peoples, for all the earth is Mine,_ and _I will, I will, always!_

They caught the first of the raiders just outside the village, already drunk and trundling after actual carts of all the stupid things. "After them!" Sarge shouted over the din, and Frigg laughed gleefully, bared all his teeth in a joyful snarl.

"I'll try to leave some for you to pick up," he sneered over his shoulder at the greek boy. The kid flipped his hair and shouted something probably rude, and kept pace with Frigg all the way into the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pythios, the pretty greek jerk, belongs to Mirrors and is used with kind permission.
> 
> Quotes are from Exodus 19:5 and Deuteronomy 14:2, respectively.


	3. How Frigg Took the Brau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Mirrors for awesome beta and lending me yet again the lovely Pythios.
> 
> Many thanks also to Para, without whose amazing fic Birth of Jagers (http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/11929997) this would be a much much poorer ritual. Go read it first, it is entirely worth it and also you will see how very indebted this fic is.
> 
> Please note that this fic is more intense than the other two. This is where the guro comes in and also wow Frigg, this is why you can't freaking redrom are you kidding me here?

Three times since Frigg had come to Mechanicsburg they had held the Hunters Rites. Each time he went with the rest of the crowd to watch the cremations, drank a toast at the celebrations afterwards, and then carried on. He never thought about it.

*****

Frigg was sitting on a low stone bench outside the armory. The summer air was cooling towards evening, and he lost himself in the steady repetitions of drawing the grindstone along the edge of his blade, the sharp scent of metal rising up around him. Even as he worked the cicadas took up their buzzing song.

He heard the boots ringing out a heartbeat rhythm against the stone long before the man himself became visible. Frigg glanced up, indifferent, and then scrambled to set aside his work and stand respectfully. A trim elegant form stepped close.

“Frigg,” Master Saturnus said, voice low and rich as new world molasses. Frigg couldn't quite make himself lift his eyes above the level of Saturnus’ broad chest.

“Sir,” he answered, heart pounding in his chest. He lifted his hand over it in a crisp parade salute and hoped it didn't show.

There was a faint suggestion of a chuckle and an appraising silence. “You do well in my army,” Master Saturnus observed almost conversationally. Frigg felt giddy at the praise. “I was right to take you on, back then.”

“Thank you, sir,” he breathed, greatly daring.

Master Saturnus stepped closer still, asked low and conspiratorial, “Would you serve me further?”

Frigg’s eyes rolled closed and he fell to his knees. “Yes, Master,” he swore, two inches from Master Saturnus’s feet and trembling from the effort of holding himself still.

There was a pleased hum and the heavy warmth of fingers smoothing through his hair. “Next time my father offers the jagerdraught, I want you to attend,” Saturnus whispered.

Sheer shock made Frigg look up. Dark eyes locked with his, fierce and possessive, and something hot shuddered through his whole body. “Yes, Master,” Frigg replied, as though there could be any other answer. 

“Good boy,” Master Saturnus told him, voice gone warm and satisfied. He turned to leave without another word, hand sliding carelessly free from Frigg’s hair like it had never been there.

Frigg stayed helplessly on his knees in the dust until the sound of his footsteps faded away.

*****

By the time they herded the soldiers who were slotted to observe the ceremony into the jagerhall, the jagerkin were already assembled. They filled the enormous room, men contorted and stretched into shapes out of nightmares, Mechanicsburg’s fiercest protectors, and Frigg found himself staring at them bewildered. What was he even doing here? Beside him Pythios looked almost reverent, mumbling to himself in Greek. The men who had chosen and been chosen to take the Change left the group and went to stand straight-backed before the altar.

And then they waited.

Frigg had almost relaxed, grown bored with waiting and vaguely considering trying to tip Pythios into the ring, when the Heterodynes walked in. The change in the room was electric. Immediately every set of eyes in the hall fixed on the two figures, one old and stooped and one tall and proud, striding side-by-side down to the men waiting for them. Behind them a clank on spiderlegs carried a tray of rough earthenware cups and an enormous beaker.

“Hy svear mineself to der Heterodynes,” the chant went up, a cacophony of different mixes of the old mechanicksburger accent and the new as jagermonstern of many ages began to repeat the ancient oath. “To guard deir power, deir secrets, und deir line.”

The old Heterodyne directed his clank to give each man in the ring one of the cups, watching it dispassionately. Frigg opened his mouth and joined the chant, lips tingling with every word, eyes turning to Master Saturnus waiting still and silent at the front of the hall. “I swear myself to the Heterodynes,” he said, voice fervent and fierce, “to guard their power, their secrets, and their line.”

As one, the group of men in the central ring lifted the cups and drank their content in one swift pull. Seconds later the first cup smashed on the tiles; moments after that came the first meaty thud of a body following. “I swear myself to the Heterodynes,” he said eyes locked forward.

It was nothing short of horrific. Men screamed, fighting and arching against the pain as their own bones broke their flesh and their organs spilled into the mess on the floor. Others simply passed out, twisting and making unknowing whimpers. One man went to his knees with a sigh Frigg could see but not hear over the chanting before he fell still-awake to the ground. Frigg’s breath came short with terror, and still he watched. “I swear myself to the Heterodynes,” he whispered.

Men were dying in agony Frigg could barely understand only a few feet in front of him, blood freely mixing on the open tiles, and Frigg couldn’t help but glance at the front of the room. The old Heterodyne was blandly taking notes, looked on like he was bored of the proceedings, and Frigg felt an intense pang of pity for the men who had walked into that ring for his sake. But Master Saturnus stood still as a statue, watching each man carefully. Whenever one went totally still and silent, his eyes winced closed for the tiniest moment of what looked like regret. Yes, Frigg thought watching him, this was a man he could die for. He opened his mouth one more time and said, even and sure, “I swear myself to the Heterodynes.”

He settled in to wait however long it would take for the last of the new jagermonstern to live or die.

*****

This time he found Master Saturnus himself, went to the little laboratory he used for the less important projects and gave a swift knock. He figured a distracted “hmm?” Was the best he was likely to get while the man was working, and let himself in without further permission.

Saturnus himself was leaning over a bare and opened corpse strapped into his slab with heavy restraints. Frigg shivered, watched him pick up a scalpel in strong slender fingers and very delicately lift away the tissue covering the rib cage. He did something Frigg couldn’t see that made an awful sucking noise and a wet squidge and Frigg told himself not to shift in place. Master Saturnus was busy.

By and by, Master Saturnus lifted an irregular lump of meat out of the chest and kissed it, reached over with blindly questing fingers towards a penknife Frigg hastily nudged into his grasp and carved his name and the date into the side of the lump before setting it aside.

Frigg choked on a heavy breath and Master Saturnus startled and finally looked up. “Oh, Frigg.” He gave the same slow dangerous smile that had made Frigg decide to come to Mechanicsburg so long ago, now fully and gorgeously adult. “I thought I’d be seeing you soon.”

Frigg felt his mouth grow dry. “I want you to give me the brau,” he said, absently pleased at how normal it sounded. “I want to take it from you and swear my Troth.” And then Frigg had to bite his tongue to swallow everything else he wanted to say, waiting to see whether his fealty would be accepted. Master Saturnus was looking only at him and smiling like Frigg had pleased him very much.

“The next Hunters Rite will be in the spring,” Saturnus said, and turned back to his work.

*****

The second time Frigg walked into the Jagerhall he was paradoxically less afraid. Rows of brothers filled the hall in front of him and behind him were the admiring eyes of those who were not yet brothers. He stepped out into the ring with heart pounding and chest tight.

As they walked, Pythios kicked him in the ankle. “If hyu die hy em schtealing hyu hat, hy vant hyu to know,” he said under his breath. “Hyu vill go to hyu pyre hatless like hyu deserve.” Frigg looked over and gave Pythios a slow, unimpressed blink, then reached out to swipe his hat before Pythios realized what happened. He replaced it with his own just as the doors opened behind them and they both had to come to attention.

The old Heterodyne wasn’t in attendance this time, was the first thing Frigg noticed. Instead, Master Saturnus strode in all alone, carrying the tray of cups in his own hands. In the front of the room the assembled Jagermonstern began to chant their vows and Frigg felt his lips moving automatically along with them. “I swear myself to the Heterodynes,” he said, reaching out to take his cup from the Heterodyne’s own hands. His fingertips brushed Master Saturnus’ palm, and then Saturnus moved on to Pythios, who took the brau with his hair mussed and wearing Frigg’s hat, the precious awful fuck. Red fire, Frigg was going to miss him if Frigg didn’t survive this. “To guard their power, their secrets, and their line.”

Master Saturnus kept walking down the row of his men, looking each one in the eyes as he handed them his first jagerdraught. “I swear myself to the Heterodynes,” Frigg said together with his brothers, both those who had lived and those who might not. “To guard their power, their secrets, and their line.”

When all of the men had their cups, Master Saturnus stood close before them all, beckoning them closer still. In a voice too low to hear outside their tiny circle, Saturnus asked one last time, “Will you serve me?”

Frigg looked directly into his dark eyes and brought the cup to his lips.

The Jagerdraught burned like fine whiskey going down his throat and like lava in his belly. Frigg’s eyes fell closed and his head tipped back in surrender as the burning spread quicker than he ever imagined through his chest and limbs, into his fingers and toes and the pain expanded into a twisting agony that knocked Frigg to his knees. It washed over him in waves one after the other, and every time Frigg thought, this is it, surely the pain can’t get worse the next crest hit and somehow it was. It broke down every sense of himself he had and left him nothing but a raw mote of awareness laying on the ground listening to voices chanting “I swear myself to the Heterodynes” like they were the last words left in the world.

And then everything was dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know what happens next, please see part 2 of Five Times Frigg and Pythios Punched Each Other. (http://archiveofourown.org/works/6079077) I am evil like that sorry not sorry.


End file.
